


The People He Is With Now

by mynameisyarra



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, POV Outsider, everyone is a little bit in love with gran: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisyarra/pseuds/mynameisyarra
Summary: The Imperial Army was occupying Zinkenstill, and Aaron was secretly happy. Because Gran would come home to rescue them, right?Now a drabble collection





	1. Chapter 1

Hermit Village had always been as quiet and isolated as its namesake. Outsiders didn't really visit this place, save for the rare priests and priestesses doing a pilgrimage from neighboring islands. It had became even quieter ever since Gran left to find his father. Aaron missed him. Messages from Gran used to be frequent, but now he would be lucky to receive one after three months of no contact. Aaron not only missed him, he was worried too, so much that he lost sleep.

Hermit Village was quiet and isolated until The Erste Empire decided to occupy Zinkenstill. The person in charge declared that it was the fault of Gran that they were suffering like this, that they should blame him for being a thorn for the empire. Aaron felt sick to the stomach, as he began to puzzle the pieces Gran left out in his letters. He was fighting an entire empire with his crew. He was _insane_. But more than that, he was still alive if the enemies decided to take the village hostage. There was still hope, Aaron thought.

The one that came to the rescue, however, was not Gran. It was a man in black armor, looking more like a demon of fairy tales than a knight, in Aaron's opinion; and a man in red, who claimed that The Empire would be making an enemy of Wales if they do not leave Zinkenstill immediately. The army he brought with him seemed eager to prove that.

However, it was clear that The Empire's number was overwhelming compared to the troop brought from Wales. Aaron thought it was hopeless. He thought wrong. They fought with vigor and prowess none of the villagers had ever seen, and the imperial army was quickly whittled. Aaron was entranced, to the point he almost didn't notice a black haired knight sneaking into his house and gently grabbed his arm, telling him that he and the other villagers needed to evacuate.

Aaron soon found out that these new knights were not from Wales. They were from Freendrache, an ally of Wales, and most importantly an ally of Gran. When The Mayor asked what could possibly spurred them into helping an unknown village, the knight named Lancelot smiled and said that they were returning a favor to Captain Gran. Aaron wasn't the only one who was stunned by the revelation.

Lancelot and Vane... they were strong too. When the imperial army found out the Order of the White Dragon was escorting the villagers out of harm, they flawlessly managed to dispose of them without breaking a sweat, or even a single drop of blood on the villagers. These were the people Gran were friends with now. 

Suddenly he felt even more faraway than before.


	2. Chapter 2

"You have been staring at my Master."

Aaron almost jumped out of his skin when the boy suddenly appeared beside him. His skin was darker than anyone in this side of the skydom, it made Aaron wonder just how far Gran has travelled. "Your Master?" Aaron asked in confusion. Was it one of The Dragon Knights? Perhaps the one in black armor? He seemed to be the kind of guy who would hire a creepy, quiet boy as his attendant.

"Yes." He sat down besides Aaron, once again making no sound and making Aaron questioned if he really did exist or not. The silence was awkward and slightly oppressive. "My name is Jamil." The boy said, as if he just remembered to introduce himself.

"I'm Aaron, Gran's childhood friend." There was no reason to introduced himself that way, but it was the only claim he had right now. He hoped it still held the same importance to Gran as it was to him.

"I know." Jamil said. "Master Gran dreamed of you."

There was a lot to unpack here to the point that the only thing that came out of Aaron's mouth was, "...what?"

"Nightmares. Of his hometown burning to the ground. Of finding you and the others as nothing more than corpses." Jamil spoke softly. "Even when I'm close to him there are things I cannot protect him from."

Aaron stared at the boy before turning his gaze elsewhere. The knights were helping rebuilding the village, even the arrogant looking red knight, whose own troop seemed distressed that he was carrying logs like a peasant laborer.

"Lord Percival was the one who informed us of the invasion." Jamil spoke again, and it took Aaron a moment to remember which one was Percival. "Master Gran... it was the first time I saw him beg for help." His voice started to waver and oh god-- he was about to cry, wasn't he? What was Aaron supposed to do? "We were so faraway and he was so scared-- I couldn't do anything for him-."

Hesitantly, Aaron moved closer--while still keeping his distance- to pat the boy's back, "It's-- well we are fine now? I mean... that's... that's what matters in the end?"

Jamil continued to cry, even though he seemed so desperately trying to stop. "Even close to him, I failed to be useful!"

Aaron briefly wondered if he came to this spot because it was hidden from plain sight. If he came here to cry. Suddenly the wariness he felt for Jamil dissipated. "I know how you feel." Aaron admitted the feeling through the lump in his throat. "I know."

Because it was hard to care for someone who was more capable than you when you wanted them to depend on you too. It was even harder when they needed someone to depend on but you couldn't be that person.

Perhaps Jamil chose this spot because he could sense Aaron's own welled up tears.

"It's a terrible feeling, isn't it?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Wales Knight fell, survived, fought, and lived to tell the tale that he did Gran of Grandcypher a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something a bit different.

Osian would never forget the fear that strike his heart in the form of Siegfried the Dragonslayer.

He was part of the troop dispatched to take over Freendrache sometime ago, only to be stopped by a single man. But could you call him a man when Siegfried managed to lay waste on an entire army without backup? The worst thing about it was that  _they survived_. The knight clad in black was in full control of his monstrous power, to the point he could choose to incapacitate over outright killing.

Osian wouldn't call it mercy, he'd call it sending a message.

A lot of men in that expedition lost the use of their limbs, making it impossible for them to continue to serve the country. Not Osian. He wondered how he survived sometimes, but then he remembered the flick of a gaze Siegfried gave him before moving on to fight a worthier opponent. It was because he was insignificant that he survived. That was the conclusion Osian had came to.

No one really talked about the failed assault. No one wanted to.

It went without saying too, that when the young lord came back with Siegfried in tow, the survivors that could still serve as guards froze in place.

They couldn't see Siegfried underneath that helmet of his, but Lord Percival's face was grave. It wasn't the usual expression of annoyance that became the permanent thing that adorned his face. For once Osian saw worry. Lord Percival demanded-- no,  _requested_ a meeting with Lord Aglovale. The castle was buzzing with gossips and rumors. Why was the young lord acting so docile? Does that had anything to do with Siegfried being here? Speaking of Siegfried, the man was waiting outside the throne room where Osian was stationed as guard. Fuck.

They heard yelling and the clashing of swords from the two brothers behind the closed door, somehow it felt relieving to know that Lord Percival still hadn't lose that spark of his. Then they were quiet again, to the point that Osian wondered if they ended killing one or another.

The door to the throne room was kicked open by Lord Percival, making the guards jumped in surprise. "Fifty people and no more." He informed Siegfried.  
"And the ship?"  
"We can take one Frontier Class."  
Siegfried nodded, "That's more than enough to cover the island."  
"Come. We have soldiers to choose." Percival ordered the other knight.  
"May I suggest the one on your left?" Siegfried gestured towards... Osian.

He kept his composure, but Osian was stressing over the situation. It didn't help that the young lord was eyeing him with less than impressed face. "Fine. You have good eyes for good people." Lord Percival snapped his fingers, "You. Come with us."

And so, Osian found himself with 49 other soldiers in a ship heading to Zinkenstill. Osian had never heard of the island, so it probably didn't have much political importance before. However, The Erste Empire apparently deemed it fit to occupy the place, which spurred the young lord into action. Lord Percival was contacting someone, and the soldiers pretended they didn't hear the soft words he used as he informed someone that The Imperial Army was in Zinkenstill.

The young lord looked pained. "Worry not, Siegfried and I are already on our way." He soothed the person before hanging up.

* * *

Lord Percival gave them the basic of this mission, about how The Order of the White Dragons would also be there as a joint effort to protect Hermit Village, and the estimated numbers of The Imperials there. It sounded like a lost cause, and that they were sent there to die. They wondered why they were chosen, but no one dared to voice their questions and concerns. "I will not let you die." The young lord declared. "They have numbers but they are lacking in their skill, one of you are capable of beating ten of them. That would be 500 imperials that would fell to our blades. As for the other 1000, just leave those to Siegfried and I."

It was ridiculous, it was downright naivety. And yet the 50 Wales Knights in that ship couldn't help but feel their confident soaring higher than before.

They would win. They would live to tell the tale.

* * *

And won they did. It was exhilarating. Osian felt like a little boy again, giddy from receiving his first real sword. They drove away an entire troop of Imperials with a squad less than a half of their size. Lord Percival was right.

The White Dragons weren't shabby either. You'd thought that after having their kingdom fell into chaos they wouldn't be able to rise up in such a short notice. It was strange how a common enemy could unite the two sides that were at odds before.

"Do you know why Erste seems interested in this island?" Osian asked a White Dragon. "No offense, but this place seems..."  
"Backwater?" The White Dragon named Gethin supplied. Osian shrugged, neither agreeing or disagreeing. "It's Captain Gran's hometown."

Osian furrowed his brows, trying to remember why that name sounded familiar.

"Grandcypher crew." Gethin said helpfully.  
There was a moment of stunned silence as Osian's eyes widen with realization. " _That_ Gran?"

That particular crew of skyfarers was... controversial. They spearheaded the fight against Erste Empire, but it seemed to not be the only reason those people were involved in turmoils of other kingdoms. People either venerated them as heroes or as ambitious snakes, waiting for the right moment to strike so they could reap the profit. Although, it seemed people love them more than they love to hate them.

"Freendrache owes Her survival to his crew." Gethin smiled fondly, "And your young lord is best friend with the captain."

" _No._ " Osian was astonished.  
"Yyyyyes." a smile formed on Gethin's lips. The man started to stand up, "I think we took enough break. Let's see what we can do for the villagers."

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Aaron was only half conscious when Gran finally arrived, the exhaustion accumulated from untreated wounds and stress finally caught up to him. He didn't remember how their reunion went, but he remembered hearing Gran saying "Just one more." and Sir Vane replying with "One more person and that's it." When he woke up, the villagers were chirping about how Gran knew healing magic now. Aaron touched the bruise on his cheek that wasn't swelling anymore. Huh.

They told him to just rest, since his was one of the worst wounds. Then he met Jamil and somehow bonded with him.

"You've been staring again." Jamil said.

Aaron made an embarrassed noise, "Well-- I mean- is it normal for Gran to just sleep on Sir Lancelot's lap?"

"Ah." Jamil seemed to scowl slightly, "Sir Vane said it's a sure fire way to get both of them to stop overworking themselves."

"...I don't get it."

"Um... it's... like when a cat sleep on your lap?" Jamil seemed to struggle finding the right words, and was just repeating what was told to him. "You feel chosen by the cat, and proceed to feel horrible if you wake up the cat."

Aaron stared for a bit before bursting into laughter, "Seriously? Gran reminds me more of an excitable puppy, if you ask me."

Jamil tilted his head "Would you wake up a puppy?"

"That." Aaron paused. "That is a good point." Jamil beamed slightly, Aaron thought he had gotten pretty good at reading this boy's emotions despite only meeting him minutes ago.

However, the gentle tranquility was broken by shouting from Vane and a trio of Erune men. Why were they fighting?

"It's dinner time." Jamil offered his hand to help Aaron stood up.

Dinner time?

* * *

"Is that a  _challenge_? Sir Bro Rad Knight?" Lowain pointed his ladle at Vane.

"Only if you aren't afraid to lose!" Vane grinned, looking confident.

Aaron turned to Jamil for answer, who only said the same thing he said before. "Dinner time." 

Turned out, Lowain and his two friends were the chefs of Gran's crew. Imagine that! Gran having his  _own_ chef. Do every skyfarer crew have their own designated chef? Gran's books implied that only rich crew did... just how much money did his friend have to be able to afford THREE chefs? Watching the two men competing and cooking up a storm--who knew that a knight could cook like that?- Aaron himself started to get hungry. It wasn't only him either, the knights from Wales and Freendrache were all huddling with the villagers and skyfarers thanks to the wonderful smell of their dishes.

"Done! Seasoned Rice Pilaf!" Vane declared.

At the same time Lowain presented his much simpler looking dish "Neapolitan Pasta, yo! Beat that!"

Aaron wondered if they have already chosen a judge in the first place, but then Gran stirred awake, clearly because of the food. Everyone held their breath in anticipation. Gran blearily blinked and took a glance at Vane's plate, before yawning and making his way to sit in front of the pasta dish. He slurped the pasta like it was noodle as Vane dramatically yelled 'noooo!'

" _Why_? I cooked my pilaf to perfection-- so why?!" 

"That's the thing, bro. There ain't such thing as perfection in food, ya see?" Lowain extended a hand of friendship towards Vane. "Everyone have different taste in things, and like, Captain just used up a lot of mana yeah? Chewing and stuff gonna be a pain in the ass, of course he would choose the one easier to eat first!"

"Lowain..." Vane accepted his hand and shook it. "You are an amazing man."

"Aw shucks, my dude! You're making me blush here!" Lowain looked pleased.

"Hey! Since the theatric is done can I eat Vane's pilaf?" Vryn practically floated straight to the plate. He didn't even wait for a reply.

"It's not theatric!" The two men protested.

"You do this every single time you meet. It's theatric." Lord Percival scoffed.

"Wow! No food for you,  _jerk_!" Vane huffed.

"Yeah! Pasta and pilaf for everyone  _but_ him!" Lowain declared as he started serving the food to the villagers first.

Aaron found himself being served both pasta and pilaf, unlike the others. "Here you go, Hero." Vane winked. "Thanks for trying to protect Gran's house."

Oh. They knew.

The Imperials burned Gran's house down till there was nothing left. To set an example, to strike fear. It just burned Aaron's heart with anger. He fought back and got beaten to hell and back. No one was allowed to treat his wound, and it had been a painful few days for him. "I... failed, though."

Vane smiled gently as he took a seat beside Aaron. "Sometimes you do things not because you can do it, but because you know someone has to." He ruffled Aaron's hair. "Now let's dig in!"

 

 


End file.
